


At Least Our Name Isn't 'Cannibal Corpse'

by lilliquinn



Series: Les Mis AU's [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Punk, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gender, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary, Nonbinary Character, Other, Punk Band Au, Punk Rock, Punk band, Sexuality, Transgender, i am a wonderful author :), in which enjolras is angry at politics and feelings, transgender character, where everyone is slightly angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2215341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilliquinn/pseuds/lilliquinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If anyone asked, Enjolras wasn't worried about the tour at all. </p><p>In which there's a lot of bands that go on tour together. And also, Enjolras may or may not have a crush on the most infuriating guy ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Least Our Name Isn't 'Cannibal Corpse'

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, everyone. I'm going to really try to update regularly, and to write in the style that suits the individual character's inner monologues.  
> I'm going to be writing about a lot of trans characters, because 1: every single trans person I know (myself included) is punk as hell, and 2: imagine a riot grrrl band with only trans girls in it. imagine. it's beautiful. god bless.

Enjolras liked order, which meant he was probably in the wrong business.

Enjolras liked order, and he was the main singer in a punk band, Patria, known for their queer themes, queer members, and their radical politics and shows that half the time ended in rioting against security and police and everything else.

Enjolras liked order, and was being forced to share a nation-wide tour, a make-or-break type tour, with two other bands that he had no idea about. 

Suck It was a band that was cherished in the radical trans community, which Enjolras admired, and the band was made of only trans women. He could get behind that idea; every member of Patria was queer, and a few were trans. Not to mention they shared a manager, Valjean, who was an absolute gift.

No, he was more worried about Dissonant. Their ridiculous name aside, he had no idea about the three people in the group. He had only heard rumors and seen short videos of screaming and yelling. 

Enjolras liked order, and he was very nervous about Dissonant.

* * *

 

"Enjolras?" It was Courfeyac. "Shit, you need to sleep. Are you still obsessing over the tour? I mean, you won't have too long to worry about it, right? 'Cause, y'know, it starts tomorrow."

"Today." Enjolras pointed out. The clock by the hotel bed said 1:02. Courf sighed, running his hand through his blue hair. It was starting to wash out, turning green near the roots, where it goes dark brown again. He looked pissed, and Enjolras winced.

"Sorry. You know I'm worried about Dissonant and-"

"I know. Now please, for the love of everything holy in this whole fucking universe, go to sleep." He rolled over, or at least tried to. They were sleeping three to a bed, and Enjolras was sharing with Courfeyac and Feuilly, leaving Joly, Combeferre, and Bossuet to the other bed.

Enjolras rubbed his face. 

"Courf, will you cut my hair tomorrow?"

"Sure. Sleep."

And he did, at least for four hours.

* * *

 

5am was the time they were supposed to start up, start getting ready for the tour, the huge fucking tour that was starting today.

Enjolras leaped out of the bed, or, tried his best to. He stumbled into the shower, knowing that the noise would most likely wake the others.

His eyes were red and there were bags under his eyes. 

Wonderful.

By the time he stepped out, the rest of the band was awake. 

"Oh my _god_ , someone get me some food." Joly groaned. 

"It's too early for this."

"Fuck, Enjolras, do you still want me to cut your hair?"

"I'm taking a shower now. Fuck where's my binder?"

"Mmmmrg"

Yeah, everyone was up.

"I'll call for room service. Eggs are good. It's 5:30, it's not that early, Bossuet. Feuilly, your binder is right here. Courf, sure. Combeferre, good morning."

He called for the room service as Combeferre slumped out of bed onto the floor, and as Courfeyac grabbed an electric razor and got to work over the balcony.

When Feuilly got out of the shower, everyone was awake enough to eat the eggs that had been brought up to their room.

"Fuck, Enjolras! You finally joined the Cool Hair Club! An undercut? Nice, man! Good job, Courf." Feuilly mumbled around their toast.

"Don't you dare let him dye his hair, though. That shit is like the Golden fucking Fleece." Bossuet said. The rest of the troupe nodded in agreement.

Combeferre said something, but he was too tired to elaborate except to give Enjolras a thumbs-up. 

* * *

 

At 6 they were forced to pack up and check out, going round the back to their bus, who they named Musain (after the bar where they all met). She was a mix of every color, splatter-paint on black. The back doors were chalkboard paint, Combeferre's idea, and they wrote reminders and silly messages on them. 

There was another bus near theirs, painted purple and blue and hot pink and green, and Enjolras smiled at the loud, brash colors, looking at the black, girlish, swirling print that read "SUCK IT" on the side. He liked their bus.

He did not like the dark green and dark purple, breaking down mess of a bus that was on the other side. There were flecks of lime and lavender underneath, but it was covered in rust and Sharpie scribbles that were nearly unintelligible.

The nicer-looking bus' door was flung open, and a girl jumped out. 

"Hey! It's you guys! Hi!" Her hair was blonde, and it was down to her waist. She wore a pink dress, and she was smiling in a way that could outshine the sun.

Enjolras liked her immediately.

"Hi, I'm Enjolras. That's Joly, Feuilly, Courfeyac, Combeferre, and Bossuet." He pointed to each of them in turn, and they all made a little wave. Feuilly and Joly looked absolutely ecsatic, and, being the only transgender individuals in the group, Enjolras thought they had a right to be. "You are...?"

"Cosette. 'Ponine, Maria, 'Chetta! There's people!"

It was almost comical how the three other members of the band peeked out from the van door. A girl, she couldn't have been twenty, ducked back inside quickly.

"This is Enjolras."

"I'm Joly!"

"Feuilly."

"Bossuet.

"Courfeyac. That's Combeferre. He's tired."

A tall girl stepped out first. She looked rumpled from sleep, but she grinned and waved.

"I'm Musichetta. That's Maria back there, she's shy and you kinda surprised us. You're like, supremely early."

"Yeah, honestly. I'm Eponine." Eponine yawned. ?Her hair was in a bun, and she looked tired. Maybe it was the leftover eyeliner.

"Hi" everyone chorused. Musichetta snorted.

* * *

They chatted for a while, sitting in a kindergarden-esque  none of them too familiar with each other, and it was  _really hard_ to socialize in sleepwear. Combeferre only had a pale yellow robe on, and kept resting his head on Enjolras' shoulder or leaning heavily on Courfeyac ("Christ, I know you're not a morning person, C, but you gotta sit up. Drink some coffee or something, Jesus"). Feuilly kept adjusting their binder nervously. Joly was on Bossuet's lap.

Maria hadn't come out from the trailer yet, and Eponine had gone back to check on her. 

"Maria's newest. To everything. Y'know? Still scared and stuff. She's great on stage, though, and she's really sweet." Cosette mused.

"Yeah, she only started transitioning a few months ago. Way shy about it. Can't blame her." Musichetta chimed in. "So, what about you all? Y'know, what's up or whatever?"

"Well, Feuilly and Joly over here are about to pass out out of joy, Bossuet fell twice coming down the stairs, Combeferre is half-asleep, and I woke Courf up at 1 last night. We, uh, we're pretty good, as it goes."

"Three times." Bossuet corrected happily. 

Joly and Feuilly looked embarrassed, but Cosette and Musichetta grinned.

From behind them, they heard a rusted door open, and muffled swears and yelling in rough voices could be heard. 

 


End file.
